


From choirboy to Rolling Stone Magazine

by BrieflyMaximumPrincess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Boys Kissing, Fluff, M/M, Rock Stars, They Call Him Prideful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 13:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16619501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrieflyMaximumPrincess/pseuds/BrieflyMaximumPrincess
Summary: Lucifer is a famous rock star now. During an interview for Rolling Stone Magazine, he remembers the boy who sparked all of this, in High school, when Lucifer was just a choir boy at the local church and hating every second of it.





	From choirboy to Rolling Stone Magazine

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I want to thank my awesome beta reader [YouCantKeepMeDown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouCantKeepMeDown/pseuds/YouCantKeepMeDown).

It was just a few moments before Lucifer had to get on stage in front of a full stadium of people. The growing crowd was already scanding his name and it echoed all the way to backstage, sending electricity in the air. Lucifer was starting to be nervous. But it was the good kind of nervousness. The kind that gave him goosebumps and that made him want to jump all the way to the stage and perform the best show in the history of music.

Rolling Stone Magazine had sent a reporter. Fucking Rolling Stone Magazine! The reporter was nice and started the interview by saying how much of a fan he was and how he couldn’t wait to see Lucifer on stage already. No need to say, the interview was going good. It was nearly done when the reporter asked how Lucifer found the motivation to accomplish such an impressive work. What was the key moment that sparked his whole career? Lucifer chuckled, his face turned all dreamy and his mind went back years in the past.

  
……

  
Lucifer hated Sundays. He hated Sunday Mass. He hated that church priest who insisted on having singing Masses. He hated all the kids in the choir. He hated the fact that he was the oldest of them by far. He hated the stupid pure white cassock with ruffles at the neck he had to wear. And beyond all, he hated his father for forcing him to attend Sunday Mass every weekends and for categorically refusing to let Lucifer to the church choir.

While all the bigots were happily shaking his father’s hand at the Church gates, and those stupid and too well combed rugrats were waiting for the Mass to begin while exchanging pokemon cards or whatever crap like that at the back of the church, Lucifer was leaning against the back wall and smoked while daydreaming of the day he would stand up to his father and never put a foot in a church ever again.

A new face came around the back of the Church, surely looking for younger attenders. Lucifer recognized him immediately. He was the new kid in his high school. Great, again a new sucker for the holy bearded man upstairs, woohoo! 

The new kid stopped like he was hit in the face and looked Lucifer from head to toe. And oh it didn’t please Lucifer at all. By now, everybody in town knew better but to give Lucifer shit for being a choirboy. Sundays were definitely not his favorite day of the week and right now, Lucifer didn't have the patience to deal with a new sarcastic soft boy who thought he was being funny.

The bells started to go crazy to tell the foolish lambs it was time to sit and behave while the priest was scolding them and drilling old and obscure metaphors in their brains. Lucifer thought the new guy was lucky. He didn’t have the time to make him bite the dust. He had to go make the monkey dance to please his father first. So, Lucifer blew one last drag from his cigaret, threw it to the new boy’s feet and warned him. 

“You say a single word and I’ll make you feel sorry. I swear I’ll wreck your ass if you even dare to think about making a comment on this shitty cassock. Understood?”

Lucifer didn’t wait for an answer and got inside to waste the two next hours of his day. God, Sunday mornings were the worst! The only consolation Lucifer had was during those tiny seconds when he would be allowed to let his voice go at his full capacity and make his singing resonate from a stoned wall to the other, filling the whole church with the sound of his voice alone when he knew the whole audience was holding back from breathing just to not disrupt the perfection of his singing. Of course, it would be ruined when the other choirboys would attempt to sing along and miserably fail, screeching horrible dissonances. But just for a moment, Lucifer knew he was holding all their souls in his hands, lulling them by the nuances of his voice only.

The next day at school, Lucifer saw the new guy come right his way. Oh joy! He saw him in church, he was like thunder stroke by his voice. And now, Lucifer supposed he was coming to pretend he was better than him or something in the same tone. Surely wanting to make fun of him, like the others, for still being a choirboy, or for whatever stupidity his over believing father said after the Mass this time, always hungover with pride, or for being named after the Devil, and what a riche joke it was, and on and on. Lucifer heard them all already.

“Hey Lucifer, isn’t it?” the New guy called after him.  
“What do you want?”  
“I just wanted to say about yesterday… You know at Mass…”

Here it was going again, Lucifer could have put his hand to cut this guy was coming to give him shit. He stopped him before he got the chance to open his mouth again.

“Listen, I don’t like Mass. I can’t care less about God and I go only because my father makes me do it, alright! So leave me alone!” Lucifer toned harshly.

The other kid looked frightened, but he spoke no matter what.  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to annoy you. I just wanted to thank you.”  
“Thank me for what?” Lucifer asked, feeling his already thin patience slip away.

“I don’t like to go to Mass. My father makes me attend it too, but I didn’t want to go. I’m not even sure my father believes in God, but he says we have to fit in. We just moved into town, and we know nobody… Whatever… I just wanted to tell you, that yesterday was a shitty day in an even more shitty week, but when you sang… It was the most beautiful thing I ever heard and it made it all okay. It helped.”

Lucifer stood silent, his poker face on, because he had no idea what to do or say. He was used to be praised for his singing voice, but it had been a long time since a compliment felt this genuine.

The guy went away without looking back and Lucifer didn’t see him again before the next Sunday. He was sitting in the row behind Lucifer’s father, and looked trapped between a man who must have been his father and a young man who must have been his brother and who looked at the ceiling absentmindedly. Lucifer tilted his head towards him and the new guy smiled to him. When Lucifer started to sing, the guy’s eyes lightened up and didn’t leave him for a single second. It looked like he breathed freely for the first time in a week. So Lucifer sang for him, and him only, that day.

At the end of the Mass, Lucifer searched for him and found him waiting while his father and Lucifer's were talking. Lucifer’s father drowned in pride once again when he presented his son to the new family but Lucifer didn’t pay him attention and shook the boy’s hand to make his acquaintance officially.

“I’m Lucifer by the way. I don’t recall your name.”  
“Sam Winchester,” he said to Lucifer before he turned to his father to explain they were going to the same high school.  
“Hey, Sam. I was thinking about going to town, this afternoon. There isn’t really anything to do, but maybe you’d like to come with me?” Lucifer asked Sam.

From this moment, Sam and Lucifer were inseparable. They became friends fast and they spent all of their time together. Lucifer loved every minutes he spent with Sam. He developed a crush on his friend pretty fast, but blamed it on being a fucking teenager and preferred to not act on it because their friendship was the best thing that happened to Lucifer in his life so far.

Sam was awesome. He was a simple guy, he was smart and liked weird stuffs like serial killers and lore. Sam had a sparkle in his eyes when he talked about that. For once, Lucifer thanked his religious knowledge and Sunday school because it allowed him to have heated discussions with Sam about angels and saints. He could bash on the Bible without feeling like a weirdo because Sam knew exactly what he was talking about. It was the same thing when Lucifer dropped the names of classic rock bands or blues singers. Sam knew them all and talked about classic rock like it had been part of his life from the start.

Better again than all of this, Sam wasn’t expecting anything from Lucifer. He just enjoyed being his friend. He couldn’t care less when Lucifer was saying he wanted to burn the church down, just to not have to sing a single Sunday Mass again.

“Just don’t go then, if you don’t want to,” Sam argued.  
“My father will never allow me to stop. He says my singing is too beautiful to stop. Says I have the voice of an angel, and angels sing in Church…”  
“It’s true you have the most beautiful voice in the world, though.”  
“And after that what?” Lucifer breathed out, laying down on the grass.  
“I thought, you liked to sing,” Sam answered.  
“I do. I just… Singing in a little town church? It’s not what I’d like to do all my life long. Singing is good but it’s… I don’t know how to say. It’s limited.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“My father just wants me to sing, but there is so much more to do on stage.”  
“Like what?” Sam asked, not understanding what Lucifer could do better with his voice.  
“Guitar. I love to play the guitar.”  
“You know how to play?”  
“I learned by myself to rehearse the songs I have to sing.”  
“For real?” Sam looked at him impressed, like it was something hard, not everybody could do. “You show me?”  
“Sure!”

Not long before the end of the year, Sam jumped on Lucifer between two periods and put a piece of papers in his hands.

“What is it?” Lucifer asked.  
“It’s a sign in form for the music contest the school is organizing at the end of the year. You should do it.”  
“Yeah, no. I pass. Everybody in town can listen to me sing every week anyway.”  
“I wasn’t thinking about you singing,” Sam answered with a joyful glance.

Lucifer listened to Sam’s pleading. Not long ago, Sam had told Lucifer he was thinking about studying law to become a lawyer and Lucifer had no trouble to picture him as one when he listened all the reasons Sam gave why he should enter the school music contest. Lucifer gave his form to the music teacher by the end of the day.

A few weeks later Lucifer was backstage, waiting for his turn at the music contest. He was supposed to be the next in line, but he really wanted to throw up instead of going on stage. He was so nervous, his fingers were shaking and his teeth were chattering as if he was frozen, but he was still sweating as if he had run the marathon. He grabbed the first kid he found and scared him into going to find Sam and make him come to see him backstage while the girl before him was butchering the theme of Titanic on piano.

Sam ran towards him and asked him what was going on. Lucifer lost it and let his panic roll over him in front of half a dozen other students. They were whispering about how Lucifer could be this nervous when he already sang in front of half the town every Sundays. It wasn’t like Lucifer wasn’t used to it. Lucifer gave Sam a distress look, ready to give up. This was supposed to be pleasant. It was not, far from it. Lucifer was’t enjoying it at all.

Sam put his hands gently on each side of Lucifer’s face and tilted Lucifer’s head up to him.

“Hey, Lucifer look at me”, Sam said.

Lucifer did exactly that and looked up into Sam’s eyes. But then Sam closed them and leaned softly to him until their lips touched and the world stopped spinning. Like in a dream, where everything else stopped buzzing around Lucifer to be painfully still, Sam looked at him straight in the eyes and told Lucifer he was born for this, he was the most talented person he ever met and he was going to be amazing.

Sam released Lucifer’s face, took the guitar next to them in hands and gave it to Lucifer. Lucifer grabbed it, and Sam kissed him again. Lucifer kissed back like he wasn’t believing it was happening for real. They parted and Sam pushed him softly towards the stage.

Lucifer walked to it with his brain screaming a white noise. The lights blinded him, made him unable to see the audience. He was only capable of thinking about Sam anyway and he knew he was somewhere in front of him, in the public. So Lucifer smirked. He walked to the mark he was supposed to go on stage. He smiled charmingly like he could see the faces looking up at him. He spoke in the microphone like he was used to it, said a joke about the public not having to worry because he knew they were fed up with him singing. They laughed. Lucifer adjusted his guitar and started to play. And boy, did Lucifer know how to play the guitar. He didn’t sing and just played like Sam advised him to do. He played to enjoy it and nothing more. He played for himself, not for his father, not for anyone else. 

But the truth was, when people in the shadow in front of him started to sing as one man to the tune Lucifer was playing, he knew as a Bigger Truth that what he loved more than anything in the world was playing for an audience.   
  


…

  
“Woh!” the Rolling Stone reporter said. “That’s how your realized you wanted to be a Rock Star for the first time?”  
“Yes, definitely yes,” Lucifer answered.  
“And after that? The classical hammering of every record labels? Concerts in shabby bars until you made a name? Then the radio, the glory, the glitters?”  
“Not really.” Lucifer chuckled.  
“Ah, your father…” The reporter said, sensing a good drama to relay on the pages of his magazine.  
“Oh no. My father isn’t a problem. I think he never really took an interest in listening to me play before that evening in high school. But from the moment he saw me on stage that day, it was like he saw the light or something.” Lucifer shrugged. “He supports me into anything I want since that day. I think I could tell him, I want to jump out of a plane without parachute and he would believe I can fly. So when I told him the next summer that I found a place as a roadie for a local rock band and wanted to follow them on tour, he was alright with it.”

The reporter laughed.

“It’s during that tour that I met Lilith, my bass player. Then we found Meg, our drummer, during a bar fight. This tiny woman can knock any man out better than she can play drums, that is to say. Then, Dagon joined us at the keys not long after. And finally, during a concert at a music festival, in the middle of a field, I saw this woman all dressed up in a ball gown with her hair done and all. I invited her to climb on stage and she grabbed one of my guitars and completely slayed my solo. That’s how Abaddon joined the band. And here we are.”  
“One last question before I let you prepare for tonight’s concert, if you allow me,” the reporter asked for.  
“Yes, I’m the only man in this band. No, it’s not a marketing thing. Yes, they kick asses. They are the best musicians you’ll find. No, I don’t date any one of them.  And yes, Lucifer is my real name,” Lucifer recited with a light laughter.  
“No, it wasn’t that, but I see you’re often asked those questions.” The reporter took on the joke. “Do you know what became of your high school sweetheart after your left your hometown?”

Lucifer chuckled before he answered.

“Yeah sure. Hey Sammy, darling, come to say hi!’” Lucifer called.

The concert was amazing. Lucifer and the girls were on top of their performance and the public was positively crazy. It had been one of the best concerts Lucifer performed so far, to the point where Lucifer had wanted to treat the public with a rare gift. Once the concert was over, and the band already came back twice to play encores, Lucifer came back alone on stage. He took a microphone and came to sit down in the center of the huge scene, his feet dangling out of it, and he sang for his public without any instrument to accompanied him. Just him, his voice and his fans.

A few days later, when the last issue of Rolling Stone Magazine arrived on bookshops, neither Lucifer nor Sam expected to see a picture of them kissing on the front cover. It had been taken before Lucifer went on stage in front of the stadium full of people. They didn’t see the Rolling Stone Magazine photographer take that one. It was a beautiful and arty shot, in back light of a scene projector, of Lucifer already on the first steps that climbed to the stage, his guitar in hand and leaning back to Sam, sharing a good luck kiss before Lucifer went on stage. A necessary kiss Lucifer never went on stage without, since the first they shared all those years ago when they were in high school.

“Oh look Sam! They speak about you!” Lucifer said as they were reading the magazine together.  
“Oh my God, they say I’m the president of your official fanclub,” Sam read.  
“That’s no lie.”  
“Your official page is going to down anytime now when your fans will read, and I quote, that ‘the charismatic Lucifer is dating his highschool sweet heart’.”  
“Outch, that won’t do no good to my bad boy reputation. But you know what? I don’t care. We made the cover of Rolling Stone, Sam. We’re immortal!”  
“I’m framing it to put it on the living room wall,” Sam said as a matter of fact.


End file.
